Blinding
by unbearablybleak
Summary: Mai x Zuko. Mai forgets who she is; Zuko helps her find herself, but she's not sure she wanted to remember. Deals with depression. Working title, give me a break, they're hard to make.
1. Chapter 1

She sees him eyeing her, though whenever she looks back, he turns away, ducking his head in an attempt to hide the red on his cheeks. First, it pisses her off. Then she remembers he's here too, dressed in the same baby blue uniform that's meant to have some sort of calming effect, or whatever bullshit they spit out on her when she arrived. He's got no need to judge her, she thinks, and she's probably not the craziest of the people here. In fact, she's certain she's not crazy at all. Just confused. Enough so that when he finally asks her name, she isn't sure how to answer.

"Mai," she finally sighs out. "I think. I mean, it's the name on the license they found with me, and I guess that girl is me, but I don't remember. That's why I'm here."

He nods, taking it in and making whatever assessment before replying, noting the sling on her arm but not asking. "I'm Zuko, I know that. They sent me here after I tried killing myself." His voice is dry, detached, and oddly familiar for her. The hollowness is something she thinks she knows, though she's near certain she doesn't know him.

The rest of their meal is silent, at some point he wanders off to a session of therapy until it's Mai's turn.

She sits in silence, lips pursed together as the therapist tries to trigger a memory in her. Pictures of the accident scene, the clothes she was wearing, the items in her purse– not that she can have those outside the room.

But there's nothing. She knows what she's been told. Her car crashed, someone found her wandering the woods close by, her wallet claims she's Mai Omura, 20 years old. Her phone was lost, so there's no one to call, but no one seems to be looking for her. The address led them to an apartment, the landlord could only confirm a name, but he offered no knowledge of her family. So she ended up here until they can help get her back to normal.

She doesn't sleep well, so they give her something for the nightmares. The nurse, Yuki, is kind and caring, and despite her best efforts, Mai can't find it in herself to be mean to her. So she swallows the pill and slips into the rec room, sitting near the window and thinking until the boy from earlier interrupts her.

This, at least, she can remember–, "Zuko," she greets before turning her gaze back to the window. She feels him sit next to her, but has to bite back a comment about personal space.

He's silent, she waits until he finally speaks.

"I was going to ask you about yourself, but you said you don't remember. So I didn't know what to say."

It's enough to catch her attention– she turns, shrugging her shoulders. "They try to make me talk about myself enough, they think it'll make me remember. I rather talk about something else."

"Yeah? Like?"

"I don't know, how stupid this place is."

He snorts, she smiles. "It's pretty dumb, yeah, but there's ice cream on Friday nights, and last month they took us to the zoo. I guess they think we're children."

"I feel like Yuki's my babysitter. She helps me get dressed half the time," Mai rolls her eyes, gesturing to her broken arm.

"Yeah– what happened?"

"I got into an accident. It's why I forgot. I don't know why that makes me crazy, though, but I guess I had nowhere else to go."

He frowns, stopping himself from asking about her family and why they aren't there. "Hm…," he pauses, "We can do something if you want. Walk, watch a movie, I don't know."

Her shoulders shrug, but she stands, so he takes her answer as being a walk and leads her out of the room, through the many doors that don't lock and the bathrooms that remind him of high school. He points out the nurses' station, his own room, and the library. They talk, not about her or him, but about the strange colors on the wall and the lingering smell of antiseptic. About which nurses are kind and which aren't, about what they want to do when they get out.

"I don't know. I guess I was in college or something. I know I like reading, maybe I was an English major," she thinks aloud.

"PoliSci…my dad thought it was a good idea. I stopped going though, maybe I'll go back if I get out."

"Doing the same thing, or do you want to do something else?"

"I guess you're not the only one who doesn't really know yourself," he shrugs, giving her a small smile like it's some kind of sick joke. She doesn't laugh, and neither does he. They're silent the rest of the night until the dimming lights signal them to bed.

* * *

Mai doesn't sleep that night, instead she's plagued with nightmares of the accident. She supposes the must be real, but figures it's possible her mind created a scenario based of what she's been told too.

The trees rush at her quickly, too fast. A curve comes but the wheel doesn't turn. She knows, instinctively, she's going to hit them, she's going to fall into the ditch, she's going to die, but the wheel doesn't turn. It's a blur as she collides, a blackout for a while, and then she's outside the car, her body in pain next to the carnage. But she's alive.

And then, she's awake.

After that, she remembers. Flashing lights and a man insisting she needed medical attention. Her name being asked over and over, scans of her brain and whispering about damage and theories it wouldn't be permanent. She remembers the doctors asking questions, of anything she remembered and how she was feeling. More whispers, these she couldn't understand before they told her she was going to the psych ward. And without another place to go, she didn't resist. Mai knew she could've gone back to the apartment she's meant to live in, but she decided to listen to the doctors.

Something wasn't right—something kept her apprehensive of leaving, despite her disdain for this place.

So she answers what she can at therapy that day, like every day, but moves nowhere useful.

Yuki's waiting for her outside the door afterwards, a bright smile plastered on her face. "How'd it go, Mai? Do you feel better?"

A simple shrug is her only reply. The nurse's smile doesn't fade as she passes over the pill and the cup of water, but this time, Mai turns it down. "Doesn't do anything, I still have nightmares."

Now, she frowns. "It's not going to work right away. Are you telling your doctor about your nightmares?"

Again, a shrug.

"Come on, Mai, that's the only way you'll get any better, you know."

"I did tell him, okay? I don't want the pill. Everything's confusing enough without something in my system."

"It's just meant to calm you, we thought it would help. Can't you give it a little more time?"

Mai starts to object again, but somehow she knows Yuki means it. She's trying to help, she cares. And that—like most things, is completely unfamiliar to Mai. So she takes it, and she lets Yuki help her with the bath so that her cast stays dry.

Zuko's in the rec room already when she arrives, watching the news. Maybe it makes him feel connected to the real word, she thinks, but it's always been depressing—somehow she remembers that. Almost like instinct, rather than a memory of something she saw on it before. There's lots of things like that. She knew math, how to speak, even a few thinks she liked and didn't. It was the memories that she couldn't grasp onto.

She notices it again, his cheeks going red when she enters. This time it makes her smile. Maybe he is kind of handsome, even though his face is scarred and his hair is so long it flops into his eyes sometimes. Before she knows it, there's a tinge of red on her own cheeks. Certainly, she didn't have a boyfriend. He would've found her by now.

He looks over, making her look away. "We can walk again if you want," he whispers into her ear. She nods, standing closer to him this time.


	2. Chapter 2

The doctor decides Mai should at least see the apartment she lived in, and Mai agrees, petitioning that Yuki take her. So they head out, being let in the dusty room when she remembers something.

Her eyes widen, she lets out a frightened groan. "I had a cat, I know I did." Yuki sighs, and they spend a moment searching, relieved to find a neighbor took it in when Mai was traced back here.

When they're back inside, Yuki grins causing Mai to raise a brow. "What is it?"

"You _remembered_ something, and you were right about it," she replies, her grin wider. "See, this was a good idea. Keep going."

Mai sighs, sifting through the apartment. There's pictures of her with a little boy. Tom-Tom, she thinks. He's her brother. Maybe he misses her. There's none of her parents, though. Nothing to remind her how to contact them. She starts to wonder if she _has_ parents. But something tells her that she does, so she continues on until Yuki tells her it's time to go back.

She quiet in the car, pensive as she stares out at the trees. The outside world seems threatening, but she's still surprised at the relief felt when she arrives back in the hospital, though questions ring through her mind.

"Why'd you bring me _here_ , though? No one else here is like me."

"What do you mean, not like you?" Yuki asks back, her arms crossing in defense of the other patients. Her job is to care for them after all, and it isn't something she takes lightly.

"I'm not mentally ill."

"Aren't you? Doesn't your mind need a little help figuring itself out right now? Isn't that what everyone here is for? No one here is _crazy_ , Mai. You should know better than that."

Mai begs to differ but doesn't want to be rude. Most of the people here are kind, only a bit off. Some she would have never guessed would end up here. "Yuki, you know—you know most amnesia patients wouldn't end up here. There's something you know about me that I don't."

The air tenses; Mai's certain she's right. There'd be no other reason for the hesitation in Yuki's answer. But the answer is the same she's been getting all along: Mai had no other place to go. She wasn't capable of living without help.

It bothers her that she knows she's meant to be here, but she doesn't know why. There's something she can sense outside of the lost memories like a heaviness on her heart or a tiredness in her bones. She's sick in a way even amnesia couldn't cure, and it feels too familiar for it to have arrived after.

She sighs, frustrated and annoyed. Her feet take her to Zuko's room where she pushes through without a knock, unsure why she's seeking him out in her distress.

He jumps up in surprise, dropping the book he's reading in the process. He smiles after a moment, though, finding the same comfort in Mai.

"Hey, I thought you got out or something, you weren't here."

"Nah, they took me home just to see if I'd remember something."

"And?"

"I have a brother, a cat too."

His smile widens as he moves closer to her side, "That's great, Mai. Maybe you'll remember everything soon."

"Maybe," she stops herself there, wanting to go on but feeling uncomfortable with the idea of giving any more of herself away. There's not much she has to call her own, not even her memories, so her thoughts need to be kept safe. "Let's go see if they have ice cream yet, yeah?"

They make their way to the cafeteria, standing close. Mai rolls her eyes at how excited Zuko gets that today there's cookie dough ice cream instead of just vanilla and chocolate, but she picks it too and follows him to a table in the back corner.

"Do you think you're crazy?" she asks, taking a seat beside him rather than across the table.

"I don't know. Maybe. Why?"

She shrugs, tracing circles on the table around her bowl with the tip of her finger. "I guess I'm trying to figure out if I am."

"Nah, you just forgot who you are."

She nods, pretending to accept the answer and turns her attention to the bowl in front of her. But she doesn't think he's right. There's something else, she knows it. There's something at the edge of her thoughts, waiting to pounce, but she doesn't know the word for that feeling. Maybe she knew what it was before, but it's hard enough to even be sure her name is Mai sometimes.

Zuko leans closer, his hair brushing against her cheek. "Hey, you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm just…thinking is all."

He leans closer still, this time so close that he catches a bite of her ice cream. Mai laughs, jerked from her own thoughts. "Hey! That's mine!" she protests, digging her own spoon into his share while he playfully fights her off. She laughs, so hard that her eyes begin to water and her stomach hurts. And then, she kisses him. He's still at first, surprised. But it's only a moment later that he pushes back against her lips until they part with red cheeks.

"Jeez, Mai. I'll be sure to steal your food more often," he jokes with a sideways grin. It makes her laugh again, especially with the waver in his voice as he says it. Not that she finds it funny he's nervous—just funny that _she_ can make him nervous. That he sees something in her he likes.

That he can make her feel like she's still alive.

It's a revelation. Both comforting and terrifying at once. She understands what the darkness is now. A numbness fighting to take her over and pull her into the black. To take away what's alive in her, turning her into a machine without a real feeling. But he can stop it, he can make her feel alive, feel good and secure.

They lay in her bed, talking about things Mai understands. She tells him about how her apartment looked and how she's starting group therapy after the weekend. He avoids telling her about his family in case it upsets her, so instead talks about the animals he liked at the zoo, and how he hopes they'll go again soon.

He only leaves when the lights dim to return to his own bed for the night, leaving Mai alone with her thoughts. She feels normal for the first time since she arrived.


	3. Chapter 3

She's been there over a month when she's called into the doctor's office outside of her appointed times. She sits, sinking into the faded floral couch. She didn't break any rules as far as she knew, so there wasn't a reason she could think of for being called in so suddenly. She glances around his office in anticipation—the degree on the wall, the box of tissues on the edge of his desk, pictures of what must be his children. She's made up names for them all by the time he enters and sits before her with a smile.

Her brow arches, and she leans forward. "Well? What is it?"

"Your mom's coming to visit you."

She sinks back into the couch and stares at the ceiling in silence for the next few moments, processing. She could get answers now. About who she was, why she hadn't been looked for. Would her mother be kind and warm, old or young? Were the similar or opposites? Did she love her?

Her mouth is dry; her hands tremble. Nervous energy builds up beneath her skin. "And when will she be here?"

"This afternoon. We talked to her yesterday, she's in Oakland. That's in California."

"Oh. Where are we again?"

"Portland. It's in Oregon. She left yesterday, she's staying in the city. It takes a while to drive."

Mai nods, not remembering the names of these cities. They're home, supposedly. But her home feels like it's confided in the walls of the hospital. She doesn't know a life outside of it anymore.

She's excused and left to wait for her mother's arrival. She paces her room, checking her appearance several times and wishing she had something besides her uniform to wear. Even a little make up might make her feel more comfortable going in, or at the very least give her something to do while she waits.

Eventually the time comes and she's seated before a woman who is easy to recognize as her mother. Mai frowns. She knows this. They look just alike, yet besides the resemblance she sees from her own reflection, Mai can't recall anything.

But the woman's thin arms are around her with a sob.

"Oh, Mai! What have you gotten yourself _into!?_ I thought you were just—ignoring me again!" the woman cries. Mai stands still, not pushing away but not comforting her either, trying to adjust her arm in its cast away from the hard embrace.

"It took me 10 hours to get here. Why did you have to move so far away? Look, I know your father and you had a falling out but that doesn't mean you need to go so far. You could've stayed with Mura. How are you even affording a place here, are you working? Look at your _arm_!" she continues, not leaving a second for Mai to answer, even if she knew what the answers would be.

It seems to hit her mother finally. "Oh…I—I'm sorry. I forgot they told me you…" she drifts off, biting her lip and sitting down. Mai sits next to her, shrugging it off.

"Who's Mura?"

"Your aunt, my sister. You always liked her a lot."

"I only remember Tom-Tom," Mai admits.

"Not me?"

Her silence is answer enough, and the woman begins to cry again. Mai's frowns, wraps her free arm around her mother, and apologizes in hopes it will be enough.

"I'm Michi. Your mother. Yes, Tom-Tom's your little brother. He's been quite upset you haven't done that—Skype thing with him."

"You didn't realize I was missing?"

"It's not the first time you've run off and ignored us, Mai. We didn't realize anything was different this time."

"So I was a bad daughter."

"I didn't say that…you've just, always been troubled, dear." Her mother pushes Mai's hair from her face, giving Mai fragments of a memory. For only a second, Michi seems familiar. At least like someone who did care for her child. She wonders how often her mother fussed over her hair and smiles. It sounds normal.

"Troubled. You said I fought with my father—because I'm troubled?"

"He doesn't like that you're different. He wanted you to be like him," Michi sighs, wringing her hands. There's guilt etched into every feature of her body. The sadness in her eyes, the hunch in her shoulders, the defeated frown.

"How am I different—was I different?" Mai questions. The person she was before is close but still out of reach. Perhaps finding her will give her a reason to leave this place. Perhaps she can mend the tears that must be in her family.

Michi thinks for a moment, piecing the words together in her head. "I don't know. You always wore these dark clothes and so much make up, but you questioned everything. You questioned him, he hated it. You liked to write, but you never let us read it…you're very private. Very smart, too."

Mai sits back with a snort. Of course she'd be private, quiet. Unknown to anyone, unknown to herself. It only seemed fitting. Searching for who she had been would take more effort.

Her mother takes the lack of response as a cue to keep talking. She's used to it, used to filling in the blanks for her daughter. "I hope we can be closer now, Mai. I do."

"The doctor says this is a new start," Mai answers, her fingers flitting through the air to emphasize what she finds to be stupidity in his words. There's nothing positive about not knowing who you are.

"It can be. I'll talk to them, dear. I'll get you out of this place. We can go home, I'll talk to your father."

Before Mai can reply, her mother's out the door, looking for someone to talk to. Mai finds herself hoping she finds no one.

Mai never knows if she does or what they say. Her mother returns with a tight smile, murmuring something about how Mai can come home in time.


End file.
